Something To Hold on For 2
by Brooke Monica
Summary: “I just felt like…” she was choosing each word delicately, “like our friendship could have been different if we weren’t stuck in this extreme situation.” He thought about this for a second, “Could it?” Redone Version


**Something to Hold on For**

Hermione tugged at her mitten; it was late October and it was starting to get quite chilly in the evenings. The trees around had all turned from their sparkling greens of summer to the foreboding dull browns and musty oranges. It was as if the weather was warning them of the hard times that lay ahead of them, and that winter was yet to follow.

"I don't even know how they let you buy adult sizes with your hands so tiny," teased Ron leaning over and putting his giant hand against her petite one to show the contrast. Her little hand could have comfortably fit about three times in his massive hands. This annoyed her greatly; she did not like to feel small and insignificant compared to her two male counterparts.

Hermione wrinkled her nose annoyed, "My hands are normal, Ronald. It's actually quite the surprise they make them in your size either." She stuck her nose into the air stuffily but had a slight grin all the same.

"Blokes are supposed to be large," he waggled his eyebrow suggestively.

"And girls are supposed to be small and _delicate_," she retorted, putting a strain on the last word.

"Well you're certainly not delicate," Ron replied, pretending to look her up and down with her wild hair and worn clothes as she glared fiercely back, obviously burned by his comment, "I don't know about you, but a girl taking down three death eaters with one spell while having her arm sprained in five places hardly counts as _delicate_."

"Oh, Ron…" Hermione groaned, rolling her eyes.

They were sitting by the fire trying to warm themselves up. It was quite a pitiful fire made up of a few logs and a Daily Prophet; their ability to use magic was scarce so nothing spectacularly warming could be conjured up. Traveling had been hard for all three of them, and especially now when they were trudging through the mountainous woods. At the moment both Ron and Hermione were both trying to relax before the next day awoken with its unknown dangers lurking.

"Ron…I have a question." She turned her calculating brown eyes towards him, hoping that just maybe if she could obtain his eye contact they could have a normal, _civilized_ conversation.

Ron's stare remained on the fiery embers resolutely, "Let's hear it."

By his tone, she already knew she would get no where. Boys could be so unattached sometimes. She remained her gaze on the side of his head determinedly waiting for him to look up for a second. When this faulty plan did not succeed, she decided to keep talking.

"Do you think…if we went back to Hogwarts…everything would be different?" She tried to phrase her question as diplomatically as possible, hoping to slowly bring on the topic of conversation she was eager for.

Ron shrugged, "Yeah…I guess…Why you ask?"

"I don't know, it's just…" she gave him a sidelong glance, "since Ginny and Harry aren't working out right now, but they're obviously meant to be. Maybe, other things would have happened that were…_meant to be_?"

He did not respond right away, leaving the last three words hanging in the air awkwardly.

He ruffled his hair, sighed as if deep in thought about things much too unfathomable for him, "I mean, sure, you would've been head girl and gotten all your NEWTS and Gryffindor would have won the house cup and all. But, this is obviously more important… what we're doing now."

She felt her heart sink. Even if Ron had not understood what she had been getting at his view on that matter was pretty clear: If something had been meant to happen between the two of them it did not matter anymore because fighting you-know-who was more important. Not that she disagreed on the whole, but it still was quite disconcerting after the year she had been put through just before their voyage.

She swallowed hard and put down her cup. "Your right, I should not be thinking that way," she fake yawned exaggeratedly, "Look I'm going to head to bed." She could hear her clipped tone but sometimes it was just so hard to hide the resentment in her voice.

"Hermione, don't make me ask you what's wrong," he said slightly annoyed with a frown drawn across his face. Then he pulled her back slightly and his expression changed to his signature goofy grin, "Look, ima' boy, don't expect me to read minds."

She felt herself force a smile. Should she tell him? Telling a boy your full feelings on any situation never turns out well.

"I just felt like…" she was choosing each word delicately, "like our _friendship_ could have been different if we weren't stuck in this extreme situation."

He thought about this for a second, "Could it?" He said it not in a mocking tone, but as if he wanted this new theory explained to him.

"Well, yes, I mean I could have read last year events wrong, but I-" She stopped herself, she was talking too much. She really must stop doing that.

Ron looked thoroughly confused now, "Hermione, I have no idea what you want from me with this…"

This was typical; boys always _want_ to say the right thing but really have not the faintest clue on where even to begin.

Silence as she weighed all her options on how to respond. Obviously, the lack of conversation had under stimulated the poor boy. He had already become bored and was back to looking at the fire as he poked it with his wand mischievously.

"I-wish-we-could-be-something-more-then-friends." The words came out in rapid succession before she even had even time to ponder the stupidity of putting her feelings out on the line.

"Oh," came his voice; all she could see was the back of his head.

"_Oh_?" she squeaked. Her voice always got high when she got upset or panicky.

Ron turned his face back to her slightly and she could see the little boy she had first met. His ears slightly pink and his face contorted with confusion, his freckles standing out in the fire light. His manly features suddenly getting an extremely boyish quality to them.

"I had no idea…I mean…er…I did…a little…but…er…" Ron tumbled over his words. If this were any other situation, Hermione would have laughed.

"Well if you don't, if you want to be just friends…" she trailed off hoping against hopes that he would say the right thing for once.

"You fancy me?" his voice cracked; he was finally looking at her straight on.

"What about you?" she asked avoiding his eye contact that she had dearly wanted only five minutes ago.

"I don't know…er…isn't it obvious?" he squeaked. She could tell he was extremely uncomfortable with this conversation and he would much rather not talk about such taboo things, as if his poor little brain could not handle talking about any sort of emotions for more then a few seconds.

"Not really, Ronald," she said slightly accusatory. "I really should be heading off to bed." She hoped they he would call her back again. But, just like a typical boy, he let her go.

"Night," Ron replied cheerfully as if the conversation had not really happened. But, he squeezed her hand as she got up to leave.

Maybe one day, boys will actually know what to say to make our heart melt instead of grunts and avoiding confrontation. But until then, Hermione would hold that little phrase "_Isn't it Obvious?"_ around in the back of her mind and heart, so that she always knew she had something to hold on for.


End file.
